A/N: Thank you to Fanofbellaandedward, Owlsnape, babyvfan, Anchor, Aiden Clearwater and spittingllama7856 for the support! Please share your theories!

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3rd November 1888

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Harry was out cold for three days.

That was the doctors told him on the afternoon that he woke up. His head was a cacophony of pain, weird humming sounds and a feeling like his scalp was on fire and being feasted upon by bugs. His hands were bandaged up too, which made scratching at himself even more difficult. One of the doctors had even joked that very rarely did they see the same patient return to them so quickly.

By early evening Harry was able to sit up by himself in time for his dinner to be brought to him. It was then that it was announced that he had a visitor. Vague memories burst through his brain and he nearly threw-up at the idea of Severus coming to see him.

To his surprise and relief, Sirius came in.

He looked exhausted with dark bags under his eyes but he appeared in a much finer state than Harry had last seen him; his dark hair hung in combed curls around his shoulders, his dark glasses gleamed as he took them off along with his top hat and place them in his lap as he seated himself at Harry's bedside.

"You've certainly proven your stupidity and bravery in equal measure," he commented blithely, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

Harry relaxed a little more, despite the words. "I –I'm sorry?"

"Your little stunt the other night. During the ritual."

More memories ghosted through Harry's head, barely skimming the surface of his conscious mind. He pressed his lips together, the intruding thoughts making his skull ache. Sirius took note of his pained expression and poured him a glass of water. Harry drank from it gratefully, his bound hands lying uselessly on his lap. "What happened to –the wolf?" Harry hedged.

"I have been keeping tabs on the creature, don't worry," Sirius stated, playing the pewter jug back on the nightstand. "For now, he is safe."

"Is he with you and Re –er –the other one?"

"Perhaps," Sirius nodded, his eyes flickering to the ward door. Harry followed his gaze and followed. The walls had ears wherever he seemed to be. The last thing he needed to do was expose names when any passing nurse could repeat the information.

Harry rubbed at his forehead and grimaced at the gauze there. Turning to the man sat beside him, he asked, "Did they tell you what happened to me?"

"Not at first," Sirius stated. "However, as soon as I said I was your Uncle and only living relative in London, they soon changed their tune."

"So what did happen?"

"It's hard to say, really," Sirius confessed with a sigh. "They found you almost drowning in that tub, covered in cuts and bruises and the foul-smelling formula you concocted. Old Snape was half-conscious in the corner, mumbling something unintelligible. You were both brought here and tended to in separate wards."

Harry swallowed thickly. "How –How is he?"

"He's alive."

"Was he … bitten?"

"Not as far as I was able to tell."

"You examined him?" Harry asked aghast, his jaw dropping open.

"As soon as everyone else left, yes." Sirius smirked deviously. "As I said, I don't believe he has been bitten. Scraped a little but no, he shan't be turning into a were-beast anytime soon."

That was a small relief at least. Harry drew in a deep breath and relaxed back against the cushions. He stared down at the dinner tray in front of him and then dumbly down at his hands. "Um … would it be too strange if I … um … asked you …" He held up his hands by way of explanation.

Sirius smiled warmly. "Of course not, kid." He dragged his chair closer and, in a surprisingly fatherly manner, picked up the bowl of soup and the spoon and started to feed Harry. "Try not to spill any," he advised.

Harry flushed a little and tried to oblige. Some soup dribbled down his chin, but Sirius swiped it back up with the edge of the spoon. Harry couldn't remember anyone doing that with him since he'd been a child. It left him feeling low and longing to return home, to see both his parents. Such familiarity would feel blissful at that moment considering the trauma he'd experienced. Sirius was easily adapting into the role of a father-figure in that moment but Harry hadn't the heart to ask if the man had had any family prior to living in London. He didn't think his heart could handle anymore sadness at that point.

He ate the rest of his meal in silence.

Eyeing the room around him a little while later, Harry found that something didn't quite add up. "Sirius –how is that I'm in another private ward? Draco paid for my last one so I don't understand how I'm in this one now."

Sirius didn't speak for a little while, his chin resting on his folded hands. He seemed to stare into space for a little while. The silence was somehow more irritating to Harry's sensitive nerves that talking outloud. Eventually, he spoke, his words calming and measured. "Draco didn't initially pay for the private ward. Once he found out about it, he switched the payments to coming from him instead. This hospital doesn't care about where it gets its money from as long as they get it."

"So … who did pay for my board last time?"

"Me."

Harry's eyes went wide. "You? Why –why would you?"

Sirius looked into Harry's eyes. "Harry, haven't you ever wondered why you were granted the scholarship for your medical degree?"

Harry shrugged helplessly, his bright eyes gleaming with fear. "I –I assumed I was some sort of charity case. That I needed to prove my worth against the others who had all sorts of resources."

"In a way, that's the measure of what everyone has to do," Sirius stated.

"So –I wasn't a charity case?" Harry frowned.

"Probably not in the way that you're thinking, no."

"Then … why?"

"Harry, I placed a large donation to this hospital on the understanding that they would not throw out your application simply because you were from outside of the city. It tends to happen, believe me. However, as soon as I heard the committee were intrigued by your grades and intelligence it made me feel terrible that they would just cast you aside, letting another, less intelligent person to take your stead."

Harry listened mutely, his frown making his skull ache and buzz. Sirius had taken it upon himself to pave Harry's way to success –or at the very least to get him into the most prestigious medical school in the city. Why would he do such a thing though? Was there something for him to gain if Harry was successful? Licking his lips, he tried not to flex his bound fingers within their confines; it only cause more pain to shoot up and down his arms. "W-Why did you make the donation?" he finally asked.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"You're a stranger to me!" Harry blurted out. "You cannot deny that! I have no prior connection to you until last week and now you seem to be dogging me around London!"

Sirius' mouth twitched into a smile. Despite the truth in Harry's words there was also a lot of information the young man didn't know. It hadn't been purely coincidence that he'd shown up at opportune moments. "Harry, did it ever occur to you that someone may have been watching you?"

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. "Y-yes," he said. "I had gotten used to the idea that it was Draco."

"For the most part, it was."

Harry narrowed his eyes. The man didn't shrink away from him. He simply sat upright in the stiff wooden chair, his hands neatly folded in his lap and his expression open and neutral. "You?" Harry breathed. "Why would you be following me?"

"I made an investment in regards to you, Harry. You need to be alive and make well on the chances given to you."

"Bought for me, you mean," Harry sneered.

"Does it really matter how you got the opportunity to study at the hospital? Or should it only matter that you are here, with these other men, excelling in your studies from what I overhear and are on the road towards a promising career after your exams, should you pass?"

Harry couldn't describe what he was feeling. It was agitation and anger, but also a strange dabble of endearment that someone had cared enough about his future to take such a bold risk on his education. Not that he hadn't made every go of it he could, it was just incredulous to think that someone outside of his own flesh and blood would care.

His skull throbbed.

There was still one thing that didn't make sense to him.

"I'm sorry, sir, but there has to be another reason for your decision to invest your time and resources in me," he spoke with his head bowed to his chest, greasy hair creating iron bars between his bed and the curly-haired man at his bedside.

"Oh, there is."

A pause. "May I know what it is?" Harry asked, feeling irritating bite into his tone.

Sirius closed his eyes. "Harry, I don't wish to distress you whilst you're still recovering."

"I'm perfectly fine!" he snapped.

"No you're not," Sirius replied, calmly. "You've been through a terrible ordeal. You need time to recover properly. This information can wait for a few more days."

"I don't need another adult keeping secrets from me, Sirius," Harry stated tightly, wishing he could scrunch his useless hands into fists. "I'm sick of being kept in the dark! These last few months have been harrowing and I need to know as much as I can if I'm going to get through this alive."

The kid had a point, there was no arguing that.

Sirius let out a weary sigh and stood up from the chair. For a brief, flickering moment he had been tempted to tell Harry everything he wanted to know. However, he had not come to the hospital that night to enrage the teenager, but rather to make sure that he was still alive and still a fully functioning human. The last thing he needed was for the kid to be scratched anymore than he already had been.

Or bitten.

Patting Harry lightly on the leg, Sirius placed his tophat upon his curled hair and straightened the lapels of his jacket. "I'll be back soon, Harry. Take advantage of the hospitals amenities while you can."

"Sirius!" Harry frowned. "You can't just leave!"

"I'm afraid I must, Harry. You are working yourself up and may even burst some stitches. You need some solitude to decompress your mind, rest and recuperate. I sincerely hope it is a swift recovery."

"But -?"

"Rest, Harry," Sirius smiled in the doorway. "Just try and rest." He didn't give the young man a chance to reply. He simply walked out of the private ward and let the sound of his shoes clicking on the marble floor follow in his wake. He couldn't deny that Harry needed answers, but now was not the time. If he was going to divulge all to the boy, he needed all the information at hand to give an accurate depiction of what happened. There'd be time for all of that, but for now he needed to do what was best for the boy.

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Sirius had invested in his future.

Sirius had spent a lot of his money in order for Harry to get a good education.

Why would a perfect stranger to something like that?

The only time something of that nature would happen to other people, it would be a well-known wealthy benefactor, or a rich relative that had been abroad in America. Sirius didn't seem to fit either profile in Harry's life, so what were his true motives for financing Harry's education? Was it so he could force Harry to create an elixir in order to save his friends live? Was Remus' life more important than the way Harry saw himself? More importantly, the way the rest of the world saw him? If he grew infamous for that sole discovery –he'd be no more than a joke.

A court jester.

Someone to laugh and jeer at as he walked down the street.

The subject of many conversations whispered behind gloved hands and handkerchiefs.

The feeling of despair pooled inside him like cold, black tar. Swallowing thickly, he brushed the hair out of his eyes and turned his blurred gaze towards the window. Swallowing thickly, he brushed the hair out of his eyes and turned his blurred gaze towards the window. Through the cobweb thin curtains, he could see the black sky stretching far and wide over the orange and black landscape of London Town. It had taken him a while to get used to the city skyline. He'd missed the rolling hills of home, the quiet and the crickets. It had all been so peaceful. However peace and silence were rare in the bustling city; it was almost an alien concept unless one happened to be awake at such a late hour.

Now, however, the world was still.

Nothing stirred or made a sound; the only thing Harry could hear was the beating of his own, steady heartbeat. If he didn't know any better, he'd have guessed that he was the only person in that hospital.

His mind came back to Sirius. He still didn't understand what that man was talking about and why it related to him. Scoffing at himself, he turned bodily onto his side and tried to make himself as comfortable as possible. His bed-bound body was growing too restless. He pulled the bedsheets higher over his shoulders and tucked them under his chin. It was definitely coming up to Winter.

'I wonder where Draco will be sleeping tonight,' his mind hummed. 'Will he be warm and dry? Will he have food and water? Will he be human or …?'

He clamped his eyes shut, his breathing hot and heavy against the scratchy pillowcase. There was no need for such thoughts. Just then, he had a moment of quiet clarity. He didn't need to sit there in bed and question all these ideas and problems. He was well enough –wasn't he? Pushing himself upright, he used his teeth to scrape and pick at the taut bandages, but finally managed to hook underneath one. With a lot of tugging and snarling, Harry was able to rip through one of the bandages and unwind it. Adrenaline worked his jaw as is gnawed away at the other hand.

Numb and shaking, he stared down at his hands.

They were both dark purple and his nails were marred, chipped and red. Yellow bruises marked his skin up just past his wrists.

Tears welled up in his eyes.

'Don't cry …' his brain crooned in his mama's. 'Panic later, but you don't have time to waste.'

Sniffing loudly, he tenderly wiped his nose and eyes on the sheets before gingerly swinging his legs over the edge of the floor was cold underfoot as he pressed some weight onto the quaking limbs. It felt wrong –as though it weren't his body to control. It felt slow and limp as he shuffled a few feet to the window and back. Air caught in his lungs.

"I can do this!" he hissed to himself.

It took him a good half an hour or so to fully dress himself. Inwardly cursing at himself, he checked the small cupboard and under the bed to make sure that he hadn't left anything behind. There was nothing. With a tight chest, Harry hobbled awkwardly across the room. Peering around the door-frame, he looked up and down the dimly lit corridor. He appeared to be alone.

Getting to the back stairwell had his perspiring, lungs aching and his spine bending with pressure.

The cold, brick stairwells were refreshingly cold. However, by the time Harry got down to the ground floor, he was drenched in a sticky sheen of cold sweat. Panting heavily, he dragged his body through the door. The main reception cast a sickly green glow at the furthest end of the wide hallway. Harry wiped at his eyes and slowly, with his back pressed against the brick wall, made his way down towards the light.

Trembling, he peered around the corner.

The main desk was empty.

Surely they wouldn't leave the entire hospital unguarded all night? Perhaps there was an emergency that required all staff? Maybe the receptionist was out getting the police for statements. Perfect. The door to the outside world was within his sight. Drawing in sharp, shallow breaths, Harry forced himself away from the wall and hobbled clumsily towards the double doors.

A tremor ran down his spine as he loped across the sparse, open area.

The rough wood bit through his shirt as he pushed all his weight against it. Grinding his back teeth together, he did his best to force the doors open. They groaned weakly in protest but eventually gave. A sharp gust of wind ripped through the air. His entire body rippled with the pressure but he continued to push through. He was sure he felt something 'pop' somewhere on his body and a trickle of warmth started to bloom on his left side. His mind was spinning as he almost fell down the stone steps leading up to the hospital.

The stars and the moon welcomed him.

Emotions crashed over him like waves in a storm.

A desperate smile clawed at his mouth, tears burned in his eyes but there was no time to dwell on it. He had a lot of questions that needed to be answers and he was done being kept in the dark. Carefully using the iron railings for support, Harry made his way down into the city of London, leaving a thin trail of bloody droplets in his wake.

A/N: I know this was a short one, but I figured you guys needed a breather x